


Things That Go Bump In The Night

by CosmicZombie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Halloween Oneshot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jimmy is stubborn, Thomas is sexually frustrated, and Alfred takes on the (unintentional) role of cupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a silly little Halloween oneshot I've dashed out, thanks to the wonderful prompt inkandheartache gave me on tumblr: a oneshot where Jimmy thinks his bedroom is haunted and he insists on sleeping in Thomas’s room. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy... it's not well written and there's much more smut than I'd initially intended, but it was fun to write! Comments will be much appreciated, as I've not really written much smut before c: Happy Halloween, everyone! <3

It was all Alfred’s fault, really. If he’d never decided to seek revenge on Jimmy’s flirtations with Ivy by scaring the living daylights out of the first footman, then Thomas wouldn’t be stuck in this situation now— lying wide awake in the darkness of his room, heart pounding in his chest with fear and desire. In fact, Thomas was torn between the urge to either give Alfred flowers next time he saw him, or punch him into next week.

 

Things had begun several nights earlier, two days before Halloween. The wind was howling round the house in fierce gusts, and Thomas had just been changing out of his livery when there was a sudden soft but insistent knock on his door. Frowning, he crossed the room, shivering slightly in his undershirt and pyjama bottoms, and opened the door.

 

Jimmy was standing in the darkened and deserted hallway, dressing gown wrapped untidily round him, a strange expression etched across his features. Thomas had never quite seen one like it on the other man; Jimmy’s eyes were wide and frantic in the pallor of his face, and his golden hair was ruffled and stuck up in odd clumps as though Jimmy had been clutching at it.

 

“Jimmy?” Thomas raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, absolutely fine thank you, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy replied tensely, sticking his chin in the air slightly. The defiance of the gesture was marred slightly as he jumped when a particularly fierce gust of wind rattled the windowpanes.

 

“If everything is absolutely fine, then why are you knocking on my door in the middle of the night?” Thomas asked evenly, making Jimmy scowl.

 

“It’s not the middle of the night, it’s only half eleven. And you’re still awake,” Jimmy said stubbornly, shivering in his robe.

 

“That’s hardly the point,” Thomas remarked. “Why are you here, Jimmy?”

 

Jimmy seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. “Mr. Barrow— there’s— there’s something in my room.” He looked intently at Thomas, eyes wide.

 

“What do you mean?” Thomas blinked, suddenly feeling distinctly self conscious— he was only in his undershirt and pyjama bottoms.

 

“There’s _something_ in my room,” Jimmy repeated wildly, eyes wide. “I can hear it… scratching at the walls.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Thomas asked, perplexed. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Jimmy.”

 

“It’s not _nothing_!” Jimmy exclaimed indignantly, glancing anxiously down the deserted corridor at another fierce gust of wind.

 

“Do you want me to come and take a look?” Thomas offered, studying the uncharacteristically anxious expression on Jimmy’s face.

 

“No! No, I’m not going back in there,” Jimmy shook his head emphatically.

 

“Then what do you want me to do?” Thomas frowned.

 

“Could… could I possibly stay in your room tonight?” Jimmy asked hesitantly. He said it through gritted teeth, as though it was going against his pride to even suggest such a thing.

 

Thomas felt his heart slide to a stop in his chest. “Excuse me?”

 

“On the floor or something,” Jimmy muttered. He raised his gaze to meet Thomas’, devastatingly blue in the dim light. “Please, Mr. Barrow.”

 

“I’m really not sure…” Thomas wavered, swallowing and looking away from Jimmy.

 

“Look, I won’t bother you at all,” Jimmy promised.

 

“What would Mr. Carson say?” Thomas raised his eyebrows.

 

“Mr. Carson might understand if there were— there were— _things_ — _creatures_ — scratching at his bedroom walls every night. I just can’t go back in there, Mr. Barrow, I really can’t.” Jimmy looked more frantic than Thomas had ever seen him, even though he was trying— poorly— to mask it. Normally Jimmy was all charming, easy smiles and dry wit, but now he looked genuinely scared. With his golden hair tousled and his eyes wide, he looked much more human; much more vulnerable than the arrogant flirt he appeared to be during the day. 

 

Thomas hesitated for a moment, jaw clenched. The idea of Jimmy being in his room all night simultaneously made him feel sick and excited… he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep at all knowing that Jimmy was lying there, breathing softly in and out, heart beating so close to Thomas’, yet so far away at the same time.

 

“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t so important,” Jimmy broke the silence after a moment, jaw clenched around the words as if he felt ashamed of his request.

 

“Alright, alright,” Thomas relented curtly, stepping aside to let Jimmy cross the threshold. “Come in and tell me all about it.”

 

“Oh— thank you, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Thomas closed the door softly behind him and gestured for Jimmy to sit down on the chair by the vanity.

 

“So, tell me about these ‘scratching noises’,” Thomas sighed, picking up his mug of cocoa from the mantelpiece and handing it to Jimmy, shivering slightly at the brush of their fingers.

 

Jimmy shuddered, taking a gulp of the drink. “They started a couple of nights ago. I thought— I thought they were just branches at the window or something at first.”

 

“But?” Thomas prompted, sitting down opposite Jimmy on his bed.

 

“There isn’t a tree outside my window,” Jimmy said quietly. He was sitting all folded up on Thomas’ seat, as if by making himself as small as possible, there wouldn’t be room for fear. He was hugging his knees to his chest, and reminded Thomas of someone much younger than Jimmy.

 

“Perhaps it was just… the pipes?” Thomas suggested feebly, trying not to stare at the sliver of Jimmy’s chest that was visible from the v-neck of his robe and pyjama top. His skin was golden brown and tantalizing, and it hurt Thomas to look at him.

 

“But… every night the noise gets closer and closer to my bed,” Jimmy whispered. He pushed his tangled blonde hair out of his eyes, staring at Thomas.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Thomas repeated. “But... I suppose you can stay here tonight if you really want.”

 

“I don’t _really want_ ,” Jimmy snapped, glaring at Thomas.

 

“Well, I’m not forcing you to stay,” Thomas countered coolly. "You're the one who turned up at my door."

 

There was an uncomfortable pause, the wind rattling the windowpane.

 

“Sorry,” Jimmy said tensely, after a few moments. He was still glaring slightly at Thomas, but he unfolded his arms. “Sorry, Mr. Barrow. I’m short of sleep.”

 

“Well, let’s not talk any more, then,” Thomas said evenly, getting up and pulling an extra blanket off the top of the cabinet. “I’ll have the floor.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jimmy said irritably. “Don’t treat me like I’m— like I’m— just stop being so chivalrous!

 

Thomas raised his eyebrows slightly. “It’s called manners, Jimmy.”

 

Jimmy scowled. “Well, I don’t need your manners. I’ll manage just fine on the floor thank you very much.”

 

“Jimmy—”

 

“Don’t even think about trying to talk me out of it, Mr. Barrow. Hand me that blanket and blow out the lamp.”

 

With a resigned sigh, Thomas reluctantly handed over the blanket, feeling Jimmy’s fingers brush his lightly and feeling tingles run up his spine at the contact.

 

“If you change your mind at any point—”

 

“I won’t,” Jimmy cut him off, pulling the blanket over himself where he was sat on the chair. “But— thank you,” he added in a mutter, and Thomas resisted the urge to smile fleetingly at him before he blew out the lamp and clambered into bed.

 

Even although the wind was howling outside and rattling the windowpane, the room seemed suffocatingly silent. Thomas felt painfully aware of every heavy, hard thump of his heart as he lay completely still under the covers, listening to the sound of Jimmy shuffling around and getting comfortable. He knew he was breathing too fast, knew that his pulse was fluttering erratically in his throat, his wrists, his chest. During the day, Thomas refused to let himself fantasize about Jimmy— to even look at him in that way. But once the day was over and Thomas safely closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help his mind running wild with thoughts about Jimmy; how attractive he was that it made Thomas’ chest ache to look at him, how his flirtatious smirk made Thomas’ heart thump in his chest, how whenever he passed Jimmy in the corridor the waft of Jimmy’s sharp, spicy aftershave made his stomach flutter.

 

Thomas could smell the aftershave now; it was almost intoxicating. He wondered if Jimmy’s warm, golden skin would taste of it, how it would feel under the tip of his tongue, if he could trace the jut of Jimmy’s collar bone and feel the pulse drumming away under the soft skin of Jimmy’s jugular with his tongue.

 

Thomas swallowed thickly, his mouth dry. He could feel himself becoming aroused, and tried desperately to focus his mind elsewhere, but it was no use— the man he fantasized about every night was inches away from him in the dark, breathing softly. Thomas could taste his bloody aftershave in the air, could picture vividly how Jimmy must look; eyes shut, blonde hair tumbling across his forehead, chest rising and falling gently. Suppressing a groan, Thomas turned over, breathing shallowly.

 

It was hours before he finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, the sound of Jimmy’s soft breathing filling the room.

 

 

…

 

 

Thomas was exhausted the next morning; he could barely keep his eyes open over his cup of tea at breakfast. In the end, he must have only had a handful of hours sleep, and it had resulted in a splitting headache and a bad temper.

 

He barely saw Jimmy throughout the day; Jimmy and Alfred had been sent down into Ripon to collect some groceries for the Halloween Feast the following day, and Thomas spent the majority of the day attending to errands for Lord Grantham. In fact, because Jimmy and Alfred were back late, Thomas didn’t even see the first footman at supper, and headed up to bed soon after, the lack of sleep beginning to take its toll after a long day of work.

 

He’d just got into bed and was lighting a cigarette when there was a quiet knock on the door, making Thomas’ stomach lurch in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

 

With a sense of nervous anticipation curling in his stomach, he got out of bed and went to open the door, cigarette still in his hand.

 

Jimmy was standing in the hallway, pyjama-clad and carrying a box of cigarettes.

 

“Can… can I stay here again tonight?” Jimmy asked tightly, jaw clenched slightly. He held out the box of cigarettes after a second. “I got these to persuade you.”

 

“Jimmy—”

 

“I know what you’re going to say, Mr. Barrow— that it isn’t suitable, that it isn’t a good idea, that Mr. Carson would have a fit if he found out—”

 

“Mr. Carson _would_ have a fit if he found out.”

 

“— but the scratching noise is still in my room, and I just can’t stay there. Even just when I was in there getting changed it was getting louder and closer and closer to my bed,” Jimmy shuddered, looking down.

 

“Well, I suppose. Just one more night,” Thomas relented, opening the door a little wider to let Jimmy come in. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

 

“Oh, can’t it just be until after Halloween?” Jimmy asked, closing the door behind him and fixing Thomas with an imploring gaze. “If it is something— something _supernatural_ — then it will disappear after that.”

 

“Something supernatural?” Thomas snorted, and Jimmy glared furiously at him.

 

“Don’t mock me,” Jimmy snapped, wrapping his dressing gown more closely round himself and throwing the box of cigarettes in Thomas’ direction.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Thomas apologised hastily, deftly catching the box of cigarettes. “And thank you. Cherry reds are my favourites.”

 

A faint smile flickered across Jimmy’s face. “I know.”

 

“You do?” Thomas frowned, surprised.

 

“Of course,” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I smoke with you every day. Do you really think I’m that unobservant?”

 

“I just didn’t think you’d be interested,” Thomas replied honestly, putting the box of cigarettes carefully on the vanity.

 

There was a brief silence as Thomas finished his current cigarette and stubbed it out in the ash tray on his bedside table.

 

“Do you want the bed tonight?” he offered, glancing up at Jimmy and feeling his stomach lurch as he realised that Jimmy’s eyes were already on him.

 

“Well, there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping on that floor again,” Jimmy said fervently. “My back has been killing me all day. I could barely carry the bloody groceries in Ripon. Alfred couldn’t stop laughing.”

 

“Right,” Thomas agreed, pulling his blanket off the cabinet and laying it down on the floor.

 

“Wait, I can’t make you sleep there,” Jimmy frowned.

 

“Why ever not?”

 

“Did you not just hear what I said? Trust me, Mr. Barrow, if you sleep there, tomorrow I can assure you that your back will feel as though someone has stuck an assortment of very sharp needles in it.”

 

“Well, where do you suggest I sleep, in that case?” Thomas asked tightly. 

 

“There’s no reason why we can’t share the bed,” Jimmy mumbled, suddenly becoming very interested in the cuff of his dressing table.

 

Thomas felt his heart skid to a stop in his chest.

 

“… _What_?” he asked faintly, staring incredulously at Jimmy, who looked more ridiculously attractive than ever with his hair slightly tousled and his eyes devastatingly blue in the soft lamplight.

 

“It seems like the only logical solution,” Jimmy said defensively. “But no— no _funny_ business, mind.”

 

Thomas felt his cheeks burn red. “I’d never do anything I know you didn’t want.”

 

A light pink tinge appeared on Jimmy’s cheeks too for some reason. “Alright then,” he muttered. “You get in first. I hate sleeping against the wall.”

 

Heart thumping in his chest, Thomas obediently got into his bed and shuffled over to leave room for Jimmy, who stared at Thomas for a moment, eyes inscrutable, before clambering onto the bed too and blowing the lamp on Thomas’ bedside table out so they were suddenly smothered in darkness.

 

Thomas was pressed as far back against the wall as he could, but he could still feel the warmth of Jimmy beside him, smell the intoxicating scent of Jimmy’s cologne.

 

“You’re bloody freezing,” Jimmy huffed, shuffling around under the blanket. Seconds later, a loud gust of wind rattled the windowpane violently, and Thomas felt Jimmy jump wildly beside him.

 

“Alright?”

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Jimmy’s tone was snappy, but Thomas could hear it trembling slightly. “… Can... can you hear that?”

 

“What, the wind?” Thomas whispered.

 

“No… _that—_ listen,” Jimmy hissed, and Thomas strained his ears in the darkness, trying to hear a noise over the wildness of the autumnal night outside the window.

 

“I can’t hear anything,” Thomas said quietly after a moment. Jimmy was still frozen and tense beside him.

 

“Can’t you hear that scratching?” he whispered, voice trembling slightly.

 

Thomas listened again, and faintly detected a dim scratchy sound.

 

“I’m sure it’s just the trees against the upstairs windows,” he said in a tone he hoped was reassuring, but seconds later there was another sharp gust of wind accompanied by a slightly louder scratching noise, and Jimmy jumped again, pulling half the sheets off Thomas.

 

“Christ, do you need me to hold your hand and read you a bed time story?” Thomas snapped, yanking the bedding back. “It’s just a little wind.”

 

“Of course I don’t need my bloody hand held!” Jimmy hissed angrily— but a few seconds later, Thomas felt him shuffling around under the blanket and then suddenly Jimmy’s fingers were curling fiercely round his, making him jump and his heart suddenly pound wildly behind the confines of his ribs.

 

“Jimmy—”

 

“This doesn’t mean anything, alright, so don’t even _think_ about trying anything,” Jimmy whispered sharply, but he squeezed Thomas’ hand slightly as he spoke.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thomas swallowed, squeezing tentatively back.

 

Jimmy sighed slightly, and Thomas felt him relax slightly. Neither of them spoke, and the night lapsed into silence between them for a while. Thomas felt sure that Jimmy could hear his heartbeat it felt so loud, and he was desperately to focus his mind anywhere other than Jimmy’s intoxicating proximity; the soft, warm fingers intertwined with his, the warmth of another body beside him.

 

“You’re warmer than I thought you would be.” Jimmy’s voice was blurry with sleep, and it made Thomas jump slightly— he thought Jimmy had drifted off.

 

“What did you think I would be?” Thomas asked quietly, swallowing.

 

“… I don’t know,” Jimmy whispered, and then they both fell silent again. Thomas tensed as he felt Jimmy’s thumb gently tracing circles on the skin of his hand, swallowing hard. He could feel himself getting hard; Jimmy had rolled over and was facing him so that Thomas could feel his soft, slowing breaths against his neck, and his aftershave was almost overwhelming. It made Thomas’ body feel suddenly completely over-sensitised; even his fingertips tingled in Jimmy’s loose grasp. If it hadn’t been so vividly real, Thomas would hardly have been able to believe that Jimmy was really lying there next to him— but he really was. Thomas could make out the vague, sharp outline of Jimmy’s chest in the dark, and couldn’t help picturing the golden, muscled bare skin he’d glimpsed when Jimmy first arrived at Downton.

 

Jimmy let out a sleepy sigh against Thomas’ neck, and Thomas suppressed a groan at the hot exhale against his skin, trying to subtly move away from Jimmy without waking him up— but Jimmy just rolled closer to him, trapping Thomas against the wall, feeling Jimmy pressed up against him. He could feel the subtle hardness and warmth of Jimmy’s muscles under the fabric of his pyjama shirt, and Jimmy’s leg was pressed up against his, warm and insistent. Thomas couldn’t help it; he was painfully hard now. He could feel his cock twitch with every rapid beat of his heart, feel the arousal curling through him, sending tingles up his spine and down into the tips of his fingers. He tried to regulate the increasing pace of his breathing, tried to think of something— anything else besides the man lying beside him, warm and real, but it was impossible.

 

It was even later than the night before when Thomas finally succumbed to sleep.  

 

…

 

 

“You look very tired today, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy commented over luncheon the following day, setting down his cup of tea and frowning at Thomas across the table.

 

“I didn’t sleep well,” Thomas replied tensely, taking a drag of his cigarette. “And I could say the same for you. You have dark circles under your eyes and you practically nodded off when Mr. Carson was talking.”

 

Something in Jimmy’s expression tightened, and he looked away, jaw clenched.

 

He didn’t say anything else, and Thomas barely spoke to the other man again until he eventually retired to his room after finishing a particularly tedious set of chores Mr. Carson had set— but he thought that Jimmy had seemed a little off all day, snapping at people more than usual, and he had dropped two plates during the Halloween dinner.

 

Thomas jumped when he closed his bedroom door behind him and saw that there was already someone sitting his bed, smoking.

 

“Evening, Jimmy,” Thomas managed after a moment, frowning slightly as he tried to gauge the atmosphere. 

 

Jimmy didn’t say anything, merely continued to smoke silently, the dark circles under his eyes looking more pronounced than ever in the dim lighting of Thomas’ room.

 

“I’m going to change,” Thomas announced, feeling distinctly uneasy.

 

Still Jimmy didn’t say anything, but averted his eyes as Thomas began to undress, swapping his livery for his pyjamas and paused at the edge of the bed, heart thudding in his chest. Even though he looked exhausted and unhappy, Jimmy was so attractive just sitting there in his bed that it hurt Thomas to look at him.

 

“Can… Can I get in?” Thomas asked uncertainly. 

 

Jimmy’s piercingly blue gaze held his for a moment, blazing, but then he moved slightly, allowing Thomas to clamber into bed.

 

He stubbed out his cigarette into Thomas’ ash tray and blew out the lamp on the bedside table. After a few necessary moments of shuffling around over the duvet, there was complete silence for a long time. Thomas would have assumed that Jimmy had fallen asleep, but he knew that he hadn’t, because Jimmy’s breathing was short and sharp instead of soft. He could feel the heat of Jimmy beside him, and it brought all the feelings of desire from the night before rushing back, making Thomas’ heart pound and his cock ache in his pyjamas.

 

“Are— are you alright, Jimmy?” Thomas asked after several more moments, trying to ensure that his voice didn’t shake and betray his state.

 

His question was met by silence, but a few moments later, he felt Jimmy turning over onto his side so that he was facing Thomas. Thomas could feel the other man’s uneven breaths against his lips, making his heart race faster still and arousal curl in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed, trying to get his body under control.

 

Then he jumped wildly as he felt Jimmy’s fingers suddenly tracing along his jaw-line in the darkness, warm and trembling slightly.

 

“Jimmy, what—”

 

“No,” Jimmy hissed, so close to Thomas that he could feel Jimmy’s breath tickle his lips, hot and smoky from the cigarette he’d stolen from Thomas’ dresser. Jimmy’s hand traced the line of Thomas’ lips and then up his cheekbone to grab his hair, so fiercely that it if Thomas had not been so aroused it would have hurt. “No, I’m not alright.”

 

And then Jimmy’s mouth was against his, hot and angry and soft all at once. Thomas let out an involuntary moan against Jimmy’s lips, Jimmy’s hands curling more fiercely in his hair and pulling Thomas closer as their kissed clumsily. It took all the will-power Thomas possessed to pull away, gasping against Jimmy’s lips, foreheads resting together.

 

“Jimmy—”

 

“Don’t speak yet. Please.” Jimmy’s voice was hoarse and shaky, and then he was kissing Thomas again, more softly this time; kissing him deeply and earnestly in a way that made Thomas’ stomach twist with pleasure and his cock pulse between his legs. Tentatively, he slid his arms round Jimmy’s waist, pulling him closer, and felt Jimmy respond by sliding his tongue into Thomas’ mouth, tasting of tea and toothpaste and smoke and _Jimmy_. Thomas groaned, sliding his hands under Jimmy’s pyjama shirt and feeling warm, firm skin and all the bumps of Jimmy’s spine.

 

After several moments, Jimmy broke away from the kiss and dipped down, tracing Thomas’ jaw line with his mouth, breathing hard and fast against the skin of Thomas’ neck as Thomas traced the grooves of his spine. He moved his head slightly, suddenly sucking hard on the soft skin of Thomas’ throat and making Thomas groan quietly again, pulling Jimmy flush against him. Thomas gasped into the darkness as he felt the heat and hardness of Jimmy’s cock pressed up against his through the material of their pyjamas.

 

“O-oh…” Jimmy breathed out shakily against the skin of Thomas’ throat. He tentatively ground his hips against Thomas’, and Thomas felt Jimmy’s resulting groan resonate in his chest between them. Everything was almost too sensitive; Jimmy’s mouth hot and urgent on his, his hands under Thomas’ shirt, the feel of Jimmy’s skin under his fingertips, the jut of Jimmy’s cock against his… Thomas knew that he wasn’t going to last long.

 

Jimmy was unbuttoning his pyjama shirt feverishly, sucking hard at the sensitive skin of Thomas’ neck as Thomas tangled his hands in Jimmy’s hair, rocking their hips together so that surges of pleasure ebbed through him, shooting up his spine and making the tips of his fingers tingle from where they were tangled in Jimmy’s soft, blonde hair.

 

“Can— can I?” Thomas asked breathlessly, fumbling with the buttons of Jimmy’s shirt as Jimmy tugged his off completely, throwing it off the side of the bed.

 

He felt Jimmy nod wordlessly against his neck, still biting and sucking at the skin, running his tongue lightly along the lines of Thomas’ collar bones and making the latter suppress a groan, tugging more frantically at Jimmy’s shirt and grinding their hips together, feeling Jimmy let out a heavy exhale against his jugular.

 

After a moment, he discarded Jimmy’s shirt and pulled him closer, groaning and the warmth softness of Jimmy’s skin against his. He pressed a brief kiss to Jimmy’s throat before pushing him onto his back and straddling him, breathing hard. He could just make out Jimmy from the moonlight that was streaming through the window; his blonde hair was tousled and tangled, his lips red and swollen, his pupils blown. Thomas felt his cock twitch at the sight, and felt Jimmy groan slightly from where their hips were pressed together.

 

Shaking slightly, Thomas traced his fingers down the bare canvas of Jimmy’s chest, circling the dusky pink nipples and making Jimmy’s hips jerk beneath him.

 

“Oh god, Thomas…”

 

The ragged words went straight to Thomas’ cock as he ground his hips against Jimmy, ducking down to tease Jimmy’s nipple with his mouth, making Jimmy cry out softly, clutching at Thomas’ hair.

 

“May I?” Thomas asked breathlessly, hand tracing the waistline of Jimmy’s pyjamas.

 

“Oh god, yes…” Jimmy choked out, as Thomas sucked lightly on his nipple and at the same time slid his hand under the waistline of Jimmy’s pyjamas, feeling hot, hard flesh. The feel of Jimmy’s cock in his hand made Thomas’ own ache almost unbearably, but he ignored it as he pulled down Jimmy’s pyjama bottoms, kissing and sucking his way down from Jimmy’s chest to his stomach to his hipbone, tasting salty skin. Then he licked a stripe from Jimmy’s hipbone all the way down until his tongue was curling round Jimmy’s cock, and Thomas felt it twitch in his mouth.

 

“Christ— Thomas— unuhh—” Jimmy groaned, low and ragged in his throat, the sound making Thomas’ cock strain against the confines of his pyjamas. He began to suck at Jimmy’s cock, fingers rubbing the base as he curled his tongue round the head and hearing Jimmy make a muffled sound as though he’d thrown his hand across his mouth to stop any sounds seeping out. It was better than Thomas could ever have imagined; Thomas could taste the salt of Jimmy’s pre-cum on the hot, hard flesh that filled his mouth, could feel the pulse in Jimmy’s cock jumping under his tongue, and Jimmy himself was real and hot and writhing beneath him, hands tangled deep in Thomas’ hair, stifling low moans than made Thomas’ whole body tingle with desire.

 

“Thomas— unuhh— I’m— I—” Jimmy groaned suddenly, and Thomas could feel the muscles in Jimmy’s abdomen tighten along with his grasp in Thomas’ hair.

 

Thomas only sucked harder, taking as much of Jimmy’s length into his mouth as possible and groaning slightly at the feel of it filling his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the head, curling round the foreskin, and felt Jimmy lose it. His whole body tensed, and with a low, guttural moan, Jimmy came, hot come spilling down Thomas’ throat. He swallowed, sucking until Jimmy was done, breathing fast and hard in the sudden silence, his hands still curled into Thomas’ hair.

 

“That— that was—” Jimmy’s voice was wrecked and hoarse, and he was suddenly pulling Thomas down beside him, kissing him hard, hands wandering down Thomas’ chest and slipping under the waistline of his pyjamas. Thomas bit down on Jimmy’s lower lip and groaned more loudly than he intended as he felt Jimmy’s fingers curl around his cock which was already leaking pre-cum.

 

“Oh god…” Thomas broke the kiss as Jimmy began to pump his hand up and down, making sparks shoot up Thomas’ spine and his cock pulse with every fevered beat of his heart. He buried his head in Jimmy’s shoulder, tasting sweat and lust on the skin so intoxicating he could barely breathe. The sensation of Jimmy’s hand around his almost painfully hard cock was almost too much; every nerve in Thomas’ body felt as though it was a live wire, and he struggled not to groan as he gasped out breaths against Jimmy’s shoulder, fingers digging into the warm skin of Jimmy’s spine as he felt his orgasm near.

 

Jimmy’s fingers were working faster, thumb rubbing over the head and Thomas could feel it building inside of him, unfurling from the pit of his stomach, making every muscle in his body tense and his fingertips tingle from where they dug into Jimmy’s back, and he was gasping in the sweet, salty taste of Jimmy’s neck as the pleasure exploded over the edge and he was coming into Jimmy’s hand with a stifled moan, eyes fluttering shut against the bare skin of Jimmy’s shoulder as his vision exploded.

 

Jimmy kept touching him until Thomas was completely done, and rolled over onto his back, chest rising and falling rapidly, vision slowly coming back. As their breathing slowed, the silence between them descended, only this time it felt warm and easy.

 

Thomas could feel sleep overwhelming him as Jimmy’s hand snaked out to capture his, warm and slightly sweaty. Thomas felt his heart leap at the contact and linked his fingers through Jimmy’s, squeezing slightly and feeling Jimmy respond.

 

“Thomas…” Jimmy’s low voice broke the silence after several moments, sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

 

“Yes?” Thomas whispered back, rolling onto his side so that he was facing Jimmy, even although he couldn’t see him properly.

 

“... I know I said that I would only stay here until Halloween was over…” Thomas distinctly heard Jimmy swallow beside him. “But… would it… would you mind terribly if I stayed here after Halloween? Not because I’m scared, I mean— because I want to, I mean— with you.”

 

Thomas couldn’t speak for a moment; he felt as though his chest might implode with happiness, so instead he just squeezed Jimmy’s hand as fiercely as he could. 

 

“I’m…” Thomas cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “I’m so grateful to whatever caused that scratching sound in your room and scared you so much that you came to find me.”

 

Jimmy laughed quietly, tracing patterns on Thomas hand with his thumb. “Me too.”

 

 

…

 

 

Several days after Halloween, Thomas was on his way up to his room with a packet of cigarettes and mug of cocoa for Jimmy when he suddenly noticed that Alfred’s light was still on. Curious, he paused outside the door, ears straining in the dull lighting of the hallway. He could dimly hear an odd scratching sound, and frowned, edging closer to the door. It was definitely coming from inside.

 

On impulse, Thomas abruptly opened the door, and blinked.

 

Alfred was standing on his bed and was scraping what looked like a small branch from the maple tree in the yard across the wall that joined his and Jimmy’s room. He jumped wildly at the sound of the door being opened and whirled round, almost dropping the branch.

 

“Mr— Mr. Barrow,” he stammered, looking terrified. “I was just—”

 

“Trying to scare Jimmy,” Thomas finished, raising his eyebrows slightly.

 

“Well— yes. But it’s just a bit of fun. I just wanted to get him back for always flirting with Ivy when he knows I like her... I was planning to stop after Halloween. Please don’t tell Mr. Carson,” Alfred blurted, swallowing nervously.

 

“I won’t,” Thomas said evenly. “It turns out I’m rather grateful to you, Alfred.”

 

“You— what?” Alfred blinked in confusion.

 

But Thomas merely shook his head and stepped back out into the hall, closing the door behind him. As he went towards his own room where Jimmy was waiting for him, he fleetingly thought that he could never have predicted how incredibly grateful he would one day be for Alfred's terrible revenge schemes and hatred of Jimmy.  

 

 


End file.
